Fears
by Lo613
Summary: Tag to the episode 'The God Complex'. What I believe the Doctor saw in his room. Please read and review. Quite angsty.
1. Chapter 1

**Angsty story time. Enjoy! Disclaimer- I don't recall ever buying the rights when in the UK. Come to think of it I don't remember ever having visited the UK...**

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11. He stared at the number, feeling completely repelled but strangely attracted to the room behind the door. He took a few cautious steps towards it. This was wrong. So very wrong. Every molecule of his being knew it, his very essence could feel it. But he had to. If he didn't then he wouldn't be the Doctor. So he made his way up to the door, his hand finding the cold, brass knob. Turning it and pushing the door open he stepped inside ever so slightly. His eyes fell to the bed. More specifically they fell to what was on the bed. More specifically than that, they fell to who was in the bed. Himself. His breath caught for a second before he smiled, a mere ghost of a smile, at his own foolishness.

"Of course,' he murmured to himself. "Who else?"

The perfect mirror image looked up at him, tweed jacket and all. They stared at each other for just a moment, both studying their copy intensely before the Doctor stepped out of the room and softly closed the door.

oOo

Later, much later, back in the TARDIS after he had dropped everyone off where they belonged, the Doctor was alone with Amy and Rory. The three of them resided in the console room, leaning up against the guard room, making small talk with each other. After a while Amelia asked a question which had been in the back of her mind for a while.

"Doctor?"

"Yes Amelia?"

"Did you find your room?" She asked.

"...Yes." He responded.

"Really? What was in there, Doctor? Rory inquired, joining in the conversation. The Doctor half way opened his mouth but didn't respond. How could he possibly tell his friends that he had seen himself? That the thing he was most terrified of was not Daleks or Cybermen, nor was it the Weeping Angles or Silurians? How could he explain that it was himself that he feared most and that everything else seemed minuscule in comparison? He couldn't. It was as simple as that. The Doctor couldn't bring himself to tell the Ponds that he was terrified of himself, scared because he couldn't seem to stop. To stop taking every wonderful person that he met across the universe, showing them time and space. Or how every time it ended in some horrible fashion, their lives changed forever. That was how it happened. That was always how it happened, how it always would happen. Rose had promised him that she would travel with him forever. Now she was trapped in a parallel dimension for the rest of her days. Martha had said the same thing. Until the Master had shown up that was. The Doctor didn't blame her for leaving him. Her family had been torn apart, and she needed to be with them, help them to heal. And Donna. Brilliant, amazing Donna Noble. After Martha the Doctor had been ecstatic about Donna and her promise of staying with him forever. It seemed like such a possibility. They worked together so well, a perfect tem, always managing to prevent the worst from happening. And in the Doctor's mind one of the worst possible thing was Donna leaving him. By the actual physical possibility of that happening never weighed to heavily on his mind. And now she was back on Earth. No recollection of the Doctor, or the places she had traveled to, all the wonderful things that's he had done. Saved the universe even! She was never able to remember. And that made the Doctor so, so afraid of himself. That, even after all the companionships that had gone so drastically wrong, he as still insisted upon brining Amelia inboard with him. Later Rory had joined in the mix. And when they did leave, because that always happened, or when they were eventually killed, it would shatter his hearts.

So he didn't answer Amy's question. He just looked up at her and smiled that strange smile of his. She didn't injure any further, nor did Rory. As for the Time Lord, he walked around the TARDIS console, slowly flipping switches and levers, entering co-ordinates. He knew what he needed to do. And he knew that now was when he needed to do it.

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**And that's that. Feel free to leave a review, just because of how amazing you are. If some people want it I could always make this a two shot and add in what happened after he left them. So go ahead and tell me what you'd like! Have a great day and DFTBA!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So since a few of you guys requested for this to go on for another few chapters, it will be so. Whoop for that. Enjoy! Disclaimer- You could always go read any of my other stories and discover that I don't own Doctor Who. **

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The Doctor closed the doors to the TARDIS, himself on the interior, his closest friends existing on the outside. Knowing full well that this would most probably be the last time time that he ever saw the Ponds, he circled his beloved ships console, piloting her into the Vortex before collapsing into the pilot's chair. He took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm himself but failing miserably. Hot, wet tears leaked down the Doctor's cheeks, and he tried in a futile attempt to wipe them away with the sleeves of his jacket. It worked for a moment, but they just coming, causing him to give up quickly. How could he have done this? He shook his head in disgust and smirked. How could he have not done this sooner was a better question. Why did it take for the Ponds almost dying for him to realize that he was far too dangerous a person for them to be around? He knew that his reasons for leaving them on Earth were perfectly logical, but that didn't make it hurt any less. In fact it probably made it worse if he was honest. Knowing that he was the sole reason that he had to leave his companions behind. Himself throwing the lives of his companions in mortal danger. It would be easy to blame it on his enemies for that aspect, the fact that danger just seemed to follow whoever it was that may be aboard the TARDIS. But he couldn't. After all, it was he, the Doctor, who attracted his enemies, wh couldn't sem to pilot his own ship properly and always wound up in the most impossible of dangers. He stood up rather abruptly and kicked the underside of the console out of sheer anger.

_"Did that help?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Did that hurt?"_

_"...Yes."_

Mickey. Mickey and Rose and the parallel dimensions and the whole mess of the thing. More lost companions. Just thinking about it brought guilt. Which was something that the Doctor most definitely did not need any more of at the moment. The Time Lord sighed and leaned against the console, his hands supporting him, planted on top as steady as he could manage. He didn't need guilt, but he knew what he did need. A friend. Someone who would want him, who would understand, someone who would crack a joke about his attire and make him laugh. Martha, he thought. Martha would help. Surly she would. He liked to believe that she had forgiven him for The Year That Never Was. Better yet, he liked to think that she had never been angry at him for that terrible year, but knew this to be false. So he stuck with being forgiven. And that was enough most of the time. Yes, Martha would want him, Martha would understand. Mickey would be there as well he remembered. With his hearts a half of an ounce lighter, he began navigating his ship through the Vortex. It was time to pay Miss(es) Martha Jones a visit.

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**This will probably end up being three or four chapters long. So there. Deal. Tell me what you thought with a review, a PM, anything! I will be forever grateful for it! All of you wonderful people have a molto bene night, and DFTBA!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yup, another chapter has arrived. Wrote this to awesome Doctor Who music. You needed to know that. MOVING ON. I hope you enjoy the chapter! Disclaimer- If I owned Doctor Who, I would be rich enough to have someone type these chapters for me.**

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_Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock._

The Doctor, ever since regenerating into this form, had a certain aversion to knocking four times. It bothered him on occasion, but not too often. To him it seemed perfectly logical, to the rest of the world, well, the rest of the world hardly noticed, now did they?

He waited for a moment, a short moment, before the door opened and he was met with the sight of his friend and former companion. The Time Lord straightened his bowtie and tugged at his tweed jacket nervously.

"Hello, Martha." He greeted. He was met with a blank stare.

"Who are you then?" She asked. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"You don't recognize me? I mean, I know I've changed quite a bit physically, but really?" He asked, half way joking. Martha leaned against the door frame of the house.

"Nope. Never seen you before in my life. Should I know you?" She inquired, scanning him up and down, but still finding no familiar features to identify with. The Doctor shoved a hand in one of his coats pockets, searched for a moment, and then tossed the retrieved object casually at Martha. She looked at for a minute before studying the object she now held. A fob watch. A fob watch, silver in color, with forgein, circular designs on it. A fob watch that Martha recognized only too well. She slowly looked back up at the strange man who stood on her door step, his hands behind his back, shifting his weight from side to side uneasily.

"Where did you get this?!" She demanded to know, her tone probably harsher than it needed to be. The man let a look of hurt flash across his face at the words.

"It's- it's mine-" He managed to stammer out. " Martha. It's me. It's the Doctor." He said, sounding worried, as if he was afraid that his friend would never believe him. Martha fixed him with a perplexed stare.

"You. Come in. Explain. Now." She ordered. The Doctor wordlessly complied, stepping inside the home.

"Where's Mickey?" He asked after a moment.

"And how, exactly, do you know about Mickey?" Martha inquired. The Time Lord sighed.

"Because, I'm the Doctor."

The expression on Martha's face told him, quite clearly, that she still didn't believe a word of what he said, so he decided to try a different tactic instead.

"Look, ask me something, anything, something that only the Doctor would know." He offered, seeing that it might be the only way to get Martha convinced of his true identity. Martha thought a moment.

"When did we first meet?" She asked.

"Easy. Hospital. I was checked in with 'severe abdominal pain.' Got H20 scooped right off the Earth we did. Jadoon were there." He rambled on and stopped to take a breath before continuing. "Plasmavores as well. Took off my shoes and went barefoot on the moon. Must do that again. Anyways. Yeah, that's how we met. Mind you, that was a typical human question, but it served its purpose." He said in a rather offhand fashion. Martha's expression softened some, almost believing that the man in front of her might actually be her long-lost friend.

"Typical human question..." She muttered. "Alright then. How about this one? John Smith. Who was he?" She challenged. The Doctor's face fell a little but he answered anyways.

"He umm...He was me. But human. In 1913. Teacher. History teacher at a school. And he-" The alien was cut off by a rib-crushing hug from Martha, which he returned. A few moments later they broke contact.

"Where have you been?!" Martha demanded to know, her voice raised to the point of almost yelling. The Doctor flinched at the harshness of her words and Martha appeared to notice, looking slightly concerned. The Doctor studied his shoes, deciding that the boots held untold secrets of the universe.

"I've...been around. Saving the universe and what not." He answered quietly.

"I tried to call you." Martha said, her voice kinder this time around. The Doctor nodded.

"The phone was destroyed I should think. Haven't seen it anyways. Probably got destroyed during my regeneration." He explained.

"Your what now?"

"Regeneration. It's how I- why, I changed into this form. Donna- You remember Donna?"

"Of course."

"Donna's grandfather, Wilfred, I saved him. And in the process absorbed 500,000 Rads of radiation." He said. Martha gave a low whistle.

"No need to say it really, but that much radiation killed me. At least that regeneration of me that is. Time Lords we can, we could, when we're about to die, or have been afflicted with a mortal wound, change ourselves. Every cell in our body actually changes, healing itself in the process. The end result is that we live, but we change. My physical appearance changes, as does my personality, to a certain degree. But I'm still me...Just a bit different." He said, smiling some. Martha let out a sigh.

"You didn't just kick the radiation out of your shoe?" She asked. The Doctor shook his head.

" 500,000 Rads. That's too much to get rid of, even for me." He answered.

"Okay...So instead of dying, you regenerated into the man with an impossible chin and a bowtie?" She asked, partly joking.

"Bowties," The Doctor proclaimed. " Are cool." He said with great confidence in his choice of neck-wear. Martha snorted a laugh.

"What ever you say, mister." She agreed. " Here, come on, we can sit down, catch up some. Would you like some tea?" She offered, leading the Doctor into a sitting room with two chairs.

"Tea would be fantastic, thanks." He replied enthusiastically.

"Sugar?" Asked Martha.

"Yes. Lots."

The former companion shot a curious glance at the Doctor as he sat down; he had never been one for very much sugar when she had known him.

"Ah, yes. Taste changes as well." He explained.

"Are you still crazy for bananas then?" Martha inquired.

"Not as much. They're still brilliant mind you. What I like now though, is fish fingers and custard."

At this Martha laughed.

"You're kidding!" She exclaimed.

"No." Responded the Doctor, quite seriously. "Not kidding. I regenerated, was still finishing up the job. Needed some food. Apples, rubbish. Yogurt, stuff with bits in it. Beans are evil. Bacon is poison." He said.

"And so, the only thing that made any form of sense for you to eat, was fish fingers and custard." Said Martha, shaking her head and smiling.

"Naturally." The Doctor confirmed.

"Of course. I'll be back, just got to get the kettle boiling."

"Right. Take all the time you need."

Martha disappeared into what the Doctor assumed was the kitchen, leaving him alone. A few minutes later sh re-appeared and sat in the chair opposite to the Doctor.

"So you regenerated. What then?" She asked. The Time Lord took a deep breath.

"Oh you know, traveling, saving the world and such." He said flippantly.

"Alone?"

The Doctor lost his voice for a moment.

"No. Not- not alone." He said.

"Where are they then? Your companions, I'd like to meet them."

"I- they're not with me anymore." The Doctor explained, his voice cracking, emotions obviously pouring through. Martha put two and two together.

"Oh...did they-"

The Doctor cut her off.

"No. Nothing like that. They're not dead. They're not trapped in a parallel dimension, their minds haven't been wiped. They're just not with me. Gone. Forever." He said forcefully, tears threatening to appear at any moment.

"I'm sorry, Doctor...What happened?" Martha asked, partly because of her own curiosity, and partly for the Doctor's sake. She knew that whatever had happened to the traveling companions was weighing heavily on her old friend, and that he needed to get it off his chest.

"I- I left them, Martha." The Time Lord admitted, sounding tortured. He looked up at her desperately. "They almost died. Amelia and Rory. They could have. They've had too many close encounters with death while they were with me. Never again. I'm never having another friend die because of me..." He trailed off. "It would be Adric all over again..." He said, mostly to himself, but loudly enough for Martha to hear. Adric? She'd never heard the Doctor mention anyone by such a name. She wanted to ask questions, but given the Doctor's current state, guessed that right then wouldn't be a good time.

"Hey, Doctor, it's okay. It's alright, do you hear me? Don't beat yourself up over it too much. You did what you thought was the right thing to do." Martha tried to comfort her friend. The Doctor trembled and sniffed.

"And that's what makes it so hard. I knew it was the right thing to do. Because other wise they would have died. And now I'm alone again..." He said, his tremor evolving into a definite shake. "Because I can't ever stop it!" He exclaimed angrily, burying his face into his hands. "I'm never good enough. And I can never. Stop. It." The alien said, sounding completely defeated and utterly out of character. Martha decided that it was her job to cheer him up, make him feel better, force him to realize that he wasn't as worthless as he appeared to think he was. After all, who else did the Doctor have to do that for him? She opened her mouth to do exactly that, when the door opened to the house, stopping her words. Mickey walked around the corner and proceeded to look incredibly confused at the sight of Martha and a complete stranger in his house, apparently conversing. He stayed composed though, and made his way over to the still shaking Doctor, offering his arm out for a hand shake to which the Doctor complied.

"Mickey Smith." He introduced himself. And for just a second, the Doctor smiled.

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**More on its way soon. Fluffiness and feels and such things as that. Please review, I love reviews as much as the Doctor loves running! So, please review or PM me if there's anything at all you want to see and I'll do my best to make it happen. Other than that, have a wonderful day and DFTBA!**


	4. Chapter 4

***meekly steps into view* I really have no excuse for not updating this for so long. And I'm quite sorry about how lazy I've been with this story. So, if you guys are still reading this, enjoy! Disclaimer- Nope. My absence has made no difference whatsoever in the status of my Doctor Who ownership.**

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"You're kidding." Said Mickey, his voice hushed as he talked with Martha in the kitchen, out of earshot of the man in the sitting room. "It's him? The Doctor? He's went and changed on us again?"

"I think so." Martha replied, tone matching that of her husband's. Mickey nodded slowly at this.

"Okay...Well why is he here? Shouldn't he be off, you know, saving the universe of something like that?" He asked, confusion laden in his voice.

"He's...Not exactly up for that right now." Explained Martha, chosing each word with precise care. Mickey's eyebrow drew together at this.

"What's happening with him, then?" He inquired. There was a slightly pause before Martha answered.

"He's left him companions. Amelia and Rory, they ere called. And he's just being really hard on himself about the whole thing."

"Sounds like him." Mickey mused. "But that still doesn't explain why he's _here."_ He pointed out.

"I think, that right now, he just sort of needs someone to talk to about a few things. Maybe he figured that it might not be the best idea for him to het into any life-or-death situations in the state he's in at the moment. I mean, it's not like he's got anybody else to go to."

"There's Jack." Said Mickey.

"_Mickey._" Martha snapped. "My point id that he's _here. _Not at Torchwood, but here, and that's that."

"Alright." Mickey agreed, backing down from the flaring temper of his wife.

"We're his friends and he needs us." Said Martha, her voice far more gentle this time around. Mickey nodded once more and clasped his hands, rubbing them together. He turned and exited the kitchen, entering the room where the Doctor sat, staring intently at the ground.

"Hey, Doctor." Mickey greeted, unsure of what else to say. The Time Lord glanced up, fixing his gaze on the man in front of him.

"She's filled you in, then." He noted simply. Mickey rubbed at the back of his neck nervously.

This wasn't the Doctor he knew. Not at all. If it was, he would have been called an idiot at least three times by now. the Doctor he knew was energetic, and completely mad, and at times incredibly infuriating. So far he hadn't been, or done, any of these things.

"Uh, yeah. Martha told me what happened."

Silence.

"All of it?"

"I think so."

"...Right."

Mickey made his way over to a chair and sat across from the Doctor, studying him closely.

"How are you holding up, then?" He questioned, his voice as light as he could muster. The Doctor and rubbed at his face with his hands for a moment.

"Fine." He replied.

"Come on now. I know you, Doctor." Said Mickey.

"I'm sorry?" The Doctor questioned.

"I know you, and I know that when you say you're fine, you're really not fine at all."

The Doctor fixed Mickey with an incredulous look.

"I've changed."

Mickey snorted.

"You don't say." He retorted. "Yeah, you have. A lot actually. But not that much."

The Doctor clenched his jaw some.

"Mickey, really, I'll be fine. It's just- You know, letting go of my companions, it's never easy."

Mickey opened his mouth to respond, but his voice was cut off as Martha entered the room, and the Time Lord turned his complete attention to her, grateful for a chance to change the subject.

"So, Martha," He stared loudly. "How are things at UNIT going?"

Martha shot a curious glance at her husband before returning her gaze to the Doctor.

"It's good. Great, really. All the people we're able to help. I've never been able to tell you, but thanks for the mention to the higher-ups."

The Doctor grinned at this, and Martha frowned slightly. When she'd last seen him, just a few minutes ago, he'd been a mess. And now this. What? She recollected her thoughts enough to form them into a sentence.

"Anyway, back on subject-"

"How's the family?" The Doctor interrupted once more.

So that's what he's doing, Martha realized. Changing the subject around, not letting her concentrate on the one area she really needed to talk to him about; Pretending to be fine and hiding behind his facade of false energy.

Good Lord, he hadn't changed at all.

"The family's fine, Doctor, but-"

"You know, I really am quite disappointed in you two." The Doctor noted mildly.

"Wha- Why?" Martha inquire, her voice laden with confusion. The Doctor motioned around to the house that was empty other than the three people who were currently occupying it.

"You two have had, what? A year together? By now there could have been at least one little kid running around here! I was looking forwards to meeting them!"

Mickey blinked in surprise as Martha gave an internal sigh.

"Doctor. I just- I need to know if you're okay. So if you could stop taking us all off track for a few moments, that would be lovely." She said, really, honestly hoping that that her friend would allow for himself to talk to her and Mickey some.

He never had been very good at that.

The Doctor pulled down his previous act, burying his face into his hands, not bothering to resurface when he answered.

"I'm fine, Martha. Really."

Martha opened her mouth to argue, but didn't get the chance before the Doctor continued.

"Listen. I just...I'll be just need some down time right now, I think. A bit of a break."

_A break from running all the time_, he thought, _A break from always saving the universe but losing everybody close to me, a break from making all the hard decisions by myself, every time. _

Martha eyed the Doctor wearily, trying to judge just how much she could afford to trust him on this particular front. It might, this one time, be wise to listen to what he was saying, simply because she wasn't familiar with this version of him, and had no way of telling how much her friend ws telling her.

Finally, she decided to trust him on this. Since she couldn't really tell either way, she might as well.

"...Alright, Doctor."

The Doctor let out a small breath, relaxing some.

"THank you, Martha."

There was a short silence between the three, eventually broken by Martha.

"Okay, you lot. I don't know how you're doing, but I'm starved. Who else is up for chips?"

"Sounds great." Said Mickey. Martha smiled and glanced at the Doctor, who gave an almost unnoticeable nod.

"Off we go then." Martha said, starting towards the door, side by side with Mickey. The Doctor stood up, keeping his eyes constantly trained on the ground, and mumbled something. He cleared his throat and repeated himself, clearer this time around.

"I haven't got any money...but if I can just pop back into the TARDIS..."

Martha shot mickey a worried look.

"You're fine, we'll pay. You're well worth a basket of chips." Martha said.

"...If you say so..." The Doctor muttered uncertainly.

"Of course you are, Doc." Said Mickey.

As the trio stepped outside of the door, closing and locking it behind them, Martha spoke.

"There's a good place just few blocks from here we can stop at." She suggested, taking the charge and walking in front of her two companions.

As they walked, Mickey sped up his pace so that he could be next to his wife, whereas the Doctor slowly migrated back, falling further and further behind the pair before him. A lock of his trademark thick brown hair had flopped in front of his eyes but he didn't bother to brush it aside.

He wasn't worth the basket of chips that Martha would undoubtedly force upon him. She may think that he was, and tell him that same thing, but it did nothing to counteract what he was felling at this moment. He was a monster; Mickey and Martha, they just refused to see that. He's been selfish, so, so selfish. He'd taken Amy and Rory away from their perfectly normal _safe_ lives, and forced them into life threatening situations over and over, and over. He knew that he never should have taken new companions onboard the TARDIS, it never ended well. He previous self, he'd sworn that he would never again have another companion. And in that regeneration, he'd stuck to it. Yes, he would let people help him, but it had always been a one time thing. No new passengers had become residents on his ship. BUt then, he gave a bitter inward laugh, then he'd went and _regenerated._ He'd regenerated, and this body, this _bloody stupid _had decided that it was a good idea to take along not just one, but _two_ companions. And it had ended, just as the back of his mind had always known that it would end, with him being alone. Completely. Utterly. Terrifyingly.

Alone.

Again.

The high pitched tinkling of bells drove the Doctor away from his train of thought. He glanced up to see a glass door opening with Martha and Mickey entering the building. The intoxicating scent of burgers and chips wafted through the front door. The Time Lord inhaled deeply, stepping inside and letting the door close behind.

He wasn't worth the basket of chips, but maybe, just maybe, strictly to put his friend's at ease, mind you, he would let himself have just a few anyways.

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**And finished. Don't worry, I really will try to update within a reasonable time from now on. It also helps that since writing this chapter I have a bit more of an idea for where I want it to go. However, it's still open to new ideas! So if you've got anything you want to see, and I do mean anything, go ahead and tell me, in a review or ab PM, it doesn't matter. Leave a review if you are so inclined, thanks for reading, have a great day, and DFTBA!**


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